


Smutshots

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:22:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: fundy smutshots.requests: open.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Floris | Fundy, Eret/Floris | Fundy, Floris | Fundy/Everyone, Floris | Fundy/GeorgeNotFound, Floris | Fundy/Jack Manifold, Floris | Fundy/Jschlatt, Floris | Fundy/Karl Jacobs, Floris | Fundy/Liam | HBomb94, Floris | Fundy/Luke | Punz, Floris | Fundy/Phil Watson, Floris | Fundy/Sam | Awesamdude, Floris | Fundy/Sapnap, Floris | Fundy/Technoblade, Floris | Fundy/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 33
Kudos: 199
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**taking requests here**

i'll write pretty much anything, and almost any ship.

i prefer bottom fundy / sub fundy.

when requesting, please try to add as much detail as possible (though it isn't completely necessary!)

:D

**what i won't write: (tho this might change)**

\- scat  
\- necrophilia  
\- self harm  
\- killing a partner during sex  
\- underage


	2. Jschlatt x Fundy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Schlatt fingering his secretary of state as he's dressed up in a maid outfit. 
> 
> \- Degradation, fingering, biting, praise." - @Anonymous

Fundy could barely breathe as his legs kicked out, his chest rising and falling at an uneven tempo, and his angular face was painted a vibrant pink from drooping, leaking cherry blossoms of heat. Sweat dribbled over his typically pale skin – a stark indication of the roaring lava running rampage through his veins. 

"Schlatt," He sobbed, toes curling and clawed fingers desperately scrabbling for some sort of purchase on the expensive wood of the President's desk. 

Fundy didn't really know how he'd ended up in that sort of position - splayed out in a scandalous pose with a crumpled maid's dress bunched up around his lithe body, but there he was, all panting and whiny underneath Manburg's current President. It was something he hadn't really expected, but also something that he wouldn't shy away from. 

"Please, please, I need..." 

What did he need? What could he possibly be craving at that point in time? 

"More. I need more!" 

Schlatt's fingers dipped further into Fundy's clenching hole, pressing deep into spongy walls and yet still purposely avoiding the one spot that would make the hybrid see _stars_. 

There was a sadistic sort of teasing embedded within the President's movements and touches, and one that Fundy desperately wanted to go far away so he could finally, finally reach his blissful release – a release that was both needed and wanted. 

"More?" Schlatt hummed curiously, brows raising, and he let his left-hand graze over the plump behind that made up Fundy's ass. "More of what, darling?" 

"Schlatt..." 

Fundy knew that Schlatt was just messing around with him, pulling on the strings of his unraveling mind and doing his absolute best to torment the younger fox, but still – the secretary couldn't help but play directly into the President's awaiting, open palm. 

"Tell me. Now." The ram demanded, though his tone of voice hadn't actually wavered from an eerie calm. "Or I'll leave you right here, exactly like this, for somebody to find. Dripping all over my desk with your legs spread and all dressed up in your little maid outfit like a filthy slut." 

Fundy swallowed, doing his absolute best to ignore the pleasure-induced shiver that rubbed all over his skin. The thought of being caught like this, so open and exposed, brought on a raw and primal urge inside of him that he couldn't even begin to explain. 

"More fingers. I want... I want you to put more fingers in," A rough swallow, "Inside of me. Want more." 

Jschlatt's hand wandered down to lightly tug at Fundy's weeping cock, a calloused palm forming a loose fist around the hot shaft. "Is that it?" He gave a little squeeze. 

The fox-hybrid's breath hitched, hips stuttering forwards, and his tail gave a light flick in reaction. "I..." 

Fundy wanted it hard and rough; he wanted his President to finger him open until he was screaming and crying – till he could barely remember his own name. He wanted Schlatt to fuck into him with hard, rough thrusts and leave him gaping and open for days. He wanted to be filled up with everything that Schlatt would give him. 

But they didn't have time for any of that. Not yet, at least. 

"Just wanna cum," The hybrid admitted around a pitiful whine, "Wanna cum, sir, please-" 

"Fuck," Schlatt hissed, fingers pressing down in immediate response. "The things you do to me, baby. The things that you make me feel when you're so desperate, so open, and eager for everything that I'll give to you. You'd take absolutely anything, wouldn't you?" 

Fundy nodded frantically as Schlatt began to stroke at his purpling cock, thumbing over the leaking head and smearing precum down a sensitive shaft. "Anything," He agreed breathily, his hips flexing forwards and backwards between the different sensations. 

On the one hand, his dribbling length was burning, pulsing, and throbbing into the rough callouses of Schlatt's hold, aching for relief. Though, on the other - it felt so, so good to have the President's fingers deep inside of him, practically spreading Fundy apart and leaving a deep imprint within. 

He wanted all of it together at once, all of it mushed into one, overwhelming feeling that would tip him right over the edge – tip him till he was spilling hot, milky cum atop of the creaking desk. 

"Sir!-" 

Schlatt's fingers were working at a faster pace, a third having slid amongst the previous two and spreading the typically tight furl of Fundy's hole even looser – even sloppier. Lube and split made for a wonderful, squelching mess, with Schlatt just barely resisting the urge to lick his tongue deep into it. 

"You dirty little thing," The President hissed, finally shoving nails into the hidden bundle of electrifying nerves, eliciting an almost screaming moan from the fox-hybrid and sending him spiraling into pleasure. 

"Look at yourself, bent over my desk with your ass stuck in the air like some sort of begging whore. _God_ , could you get any thirstier?" 

The question was most definitely rhetorical, and one that Fundy wasn't expected to answer to, but he nodded anyway – desperate for any sort of reward he'd get for agreeing with the older man. 

Fundy loved pain. He loved the idea of being used and spat on, completely uncaring that he might be tossed to the side the next day. But he loved praise even more – drank up any sort of gratitude he'd receive from his peers and the people around him like a baby desperately suckling on its mother's teat. 

Fundy just wanted to be seen as _good_. 

"You know that you are," Schlatt smirked, pride dripping from his silky tone and feathered words," My obedient little Fundy. My obedient little maid." 

A high-pitched, rolling groan peeled from Fundy's parted lips, long and drawn out as it mingled with heavy panting and repetitive moans. His toes were curling, and his sweat-slick forehead pressed against indented, scratched wood. 

"Close," He sobbed around globs of growing spit, drool rolling down his chin and collecting against his skin. "Close, close, close. Please, please-" 

The seemingly ceaseless begging was lost under the deep rhythm of Schlatt's voice, the President only letting his movements quicken as he began to pound his fingers against Fundy's nerves. There was a raging fervour behind his touches and one that the smaller hybrid wanted to lean into forever and ever. 

"Do you think you've earned it?" Schlatt growled, leaning forwards only so he could nip at Fundy's exposed throat. "Earned the right to spill your seed all over _my_ shit? Earned the right to hump your pale, shaking hips into _my_ fist?" 

The fox-hybrid let free another bout of mindless nodding, hot cheek smushed against the polished oak, and lips parted around words that only seemed to dissolve down into crying and moaning. 

"Please, please, yes, Schlatt-" 

Sharp teeth sunk down into Fundy's neck, deep enough to draw blood and hard enough to leave a lasting bruise – three fingers dup deep into a clenching, squeezing hole and a firm hand fisted almost painfully fast around a weeping, red length. 

"Good boy. Come for me, darling." 

" _Sir_!" 

Fundy wailed out, the sound long and lasting as hot, milky cum bled from his leaking head, dribbling down his cock and slinking into the spaces between Schlatt's long fingers. His body was shaking, shaking, and quivering, and his chest was heaving desperately – lung gasping for much-needed air. 

The hybrid felt as if he was floating up on cloud nine, his body running through varying states of pure euphoria and glee as Schlatt gently milked his dick for all it was worth, squeezing out each last drop of burning cum onto previously stained wood. 

Everything was right at that point in time, at least for Fundy. 

It didn't matter that his tailored dress was ruined and ripped; it didn't matter that he'd be left with a trembling shake in his legs for days to come, and it didn't matter that Schlatt was soon pulling away to deal with other business. Because... 

Because Fundy felt good. 

He felt really, really good, and nothing could change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requests: Open


	3. Phil x Fundy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fundy and Phil always had a sort of dislike/love relationship with each other, seeing as Phil killed Wilbur and Fundy was just plain out a bitch. But recently, he randomly started.. making flirtatious remarks when arguing with his grandfather? Phil couldn't help but get turned on each time and when he almost returned them, Fundy walked away.
> 
> And so he finally decided to put Fundy in his place one night when they're alone. Fundy, of course, is definitely willing to do it as well but he's pretty fucking cocky and apparently trying to be dom. Looks like that's just another thing Phil would have to put him in his place for. Oh- and look at that, Techno accidentally catches them in the end and is forever traumatized." - @kaedieloverboy 
> 
> TW // INCEST

Phil's relationship with his grandson has always been a little fractured, a little misshapen and wrong, fragmented down into tiny pieces - small enough bits that their bond is practically nonexistent, much to Phil's chagrin (and occasional relief.) 

Truth be told, it wasn't exactly fun, having the last, familial connection to your late son barely being held together by snapping strings with fraying ends, but it was something Phil had been forced to live with for a while and was just now trying to fix, at least somewhat. 

(Surprising, he knows, but it wasn't like he could completely ignore Fundy forever, especially not while the hybrid was trespassing and hanging around his land more often.) 

Fundy had been lurking, showing up amongst the typically quiet lands of the Arctic Empire with perked ears and a mischievous smirk, and causing mayhem wherever he went – be it deep creeper holes exploded into the ground or robbing little trinkets from Phil's chest with nimble fingers. 

He was a nuisance, and one that, while still getting on Phil's nerves, needed to seriously just talk to his grandfather. 

Hopefully, together they could figure out just why Fundy had suddenly decided he needed to venture out into the cold temperatures of snow and ice when he very clearly still lived more towards L'Manburg (or what was left of it). Then they could begin to fix what was left of their relation. 

Especially since some of their previous conversations hadn't exactly... ended too well. 

_A brief pause, and then Phil's calloused hands slammed fiercely next to either side of Fundy's rapidly shaking head, easily caging the quivering fox-hybrid in before he even had the slight chance to move to follow the rest of his friends out of the door once more._

_"'The Butcher Army?'" The older man hissed, rage burning and sizzling behind his fiery gaze. "Seriously, Fundy? _The Butcher Army_?" _

_The fox swallowed roughly, mouth feeling far too dry, and his eyes were impossibly wide and unblinking as he peered towards the vexed blonde._

_"Grandpa..."_

_"Don't 'grandpa' me, Fundy! I told you to stay out of everyone's business! To stay quiet and away from any sort of conflict, and then you go and do this shit? You go and join a damn 'army' to attempt to hunt and kill _Technoblade_ of all people!?" _

_Fundy's ears flicked, and his tongue darted out to wet at pink lips. "I wanted to be helpful..."_

_A harsh sigh, "You could be helpful doing absolutely anything else, fixing up L'Manburg, maybe? Making new inventions? Offering your aid to some of the people around, like Niki, with her bakery? Wouldn't that be-..."_

_Phil's breath hitched, and his brows furrowed as Fundy didn't immediately respond; instead, the hybrid was letting his fingers lightly trace over the buttons keeping Phil's shirt together and in one piece with slow movements._

_"But Grandpa," He mumbled, ears drooping and plush lips turning into a slight pout, "I just wanted to be a good boy."_

_Phil inhaled sharply. He didn't know how to respond. His whole world seemed to stop turning suddenly, and the oxygen appeared to have been sucked right from his gasping lungs. That was... there was definitely something to Fundy's tone of voice, a shift in his words that had a hot flush rising to the older man's cheeks._

_His pants felt just a little bit tighter, and Phil's mind was considerably more conflicted._

_"Ah, Fundy-"_

_A wide grin split across Fundy's face in response._

_"Gotta go, Phil! It was nice seeing you though, have fun on house arrest!"_

_The blonde could only watch through wide eyes and with parted lips as the tricky hybrid darted from underneath his strong arms and practically sprinted through the open door._

_Goddamn, that silly fox._

__

Those sorts of interactions... the flirtatious remarks, silky touches, and daring looks had only made Phil's life considerably harder (in more ways than one.) 

He was conflicted more than anything, confused at his grandson's actions and not really knowing how to react to them. The majority of his brain, and his typically helpful voices, were telling him that it was nothing, that he was overthinking things again, and that his hyperactive grandson didn't mean anything by his sly brushes. 

Fundy was just being his usual self, a rambunctious young adult with tall fox ears and a surprisingly bushy tail. 

But then again, the other part of Phil, the more secluded, hidden part of him, was murmuring dark and dirty thoughts, thoughts of pressing his grandson against the nearest wall and fucking him till he was screaming, thoughts of holding the hybrid down as he choked and drooled on Phil's cock. 

Those sorts of thoughts made each interaction that Phil had with the ginger just all the more arduous. 

Phil mainly wanted to move past it, focus on the Syndicate and Technoblade, focus on trying out new trident tricks and building up his house. But at the same time, he was also somewhat curious – curious enough that he too wanted an answer to his burning questions. 

It would make sense to talk it out with his grandson the next time Fundy appeared on his land, and preferably at the right time. 

A time that _wasn't_ 4am in the fucking morning. 

Phil's eyes shot open, lips parting in a heavy groan, and his room felt significantly colder than it had when he'd first headed to sleep. His gaze snapped to the side, half-expecting a window to have blown open during the night and half-expecting Technoblade to be stood there wanting Phil to go on another night excursion. 

The one thing he hadn't been expecting whatsoever was to find Fundy rifling through his chests – the front door left wide open behind him. 

So that's where the cold breeze was coming from then, just great. 

"Fundy," Phil sighed quietly, tone dripping with both disappointment and a slight sternness, "I really presumed better from you, you know? I know you're a fox and all, but stealing from me? Again?" 

The hybrid jumped; surprise splashed across his pale face as he whipped to turn to the waking blonde. Phil was sitting up, bare legs swinging over the side of his bed and eyes glinting dangerously. "Grandpa-" He tried, tongue resting heavily in his parched mouth. 

"Grandpa, I-" 

"I've given you chance after chance, given you option after option to try and change, and yet you're still barging into our lives. You're still stealing and screwing up, mate." Phil stood up, unaffected by the chill and the fact that he was practically half-naked. "Why?" 

Fundy's ears flicked, tail curling around his thigh, and he shrugged, a shred of confidence running through him. "I'm just trying to build myself a house, right? And I needed some materials and a new shovel. I was only going to borrow them, nothing else-" 

Phil stalked forwards, intent clear in his movements, and determination was leaking from his very pores. 

He was exhausted – far too tired from a day of hard work and stress to think rationally and attempt just to go back to sleep. Phil was filled to the brim with pent-up rage, sexual frustration, and the overwhelming, dark desire to put Fundy in his place finally. 

"I'm getting sick of this act you like to put on, Fundy. Pretending to be all confident and snarky when we really know that you're nothing but a follower. A shy little fox with no backbone, aren't you?" 

Fundy scoffed, fingers twitching as Phil began to back him against the far wall. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, _Philza_. I'm certainly not shy, nor am I little." He said that, despite the size difference between the two being clear as day – Phil's toned, lengthy figure much different from the lithe body that made up the hybrid's stance. "I think you've just described yourself, actually." 

Phil's brows raised. "Really? What - you think that you could overpower me or something, hm?" 

There was a slight pause before Fundy nodded. "Yes. I could." 

"Liar." Phil leaned forwards, throwing any and all rationality completely out of the window as he pressed his lips to the corner of Fundy's mouth. "You're a horrible liar. Get on the bed. _Now_.” 

Fundy didn't need to think twice before scrambling towards Phil's large bed, feet almost tripping over one another, and he was stripping layers as he went. He was uncaring of where the garments ended up, instead wanting to be bare and open for his grandpa to take. 

The fox settled with a soft huff and blushing cheeks, ears twitching and tail lashing against silk covers. His brows raised expectantly. 

"You just gonna stare at me for the rest of the night, old man?" 

Phil's brow twitched as he began to walk over at a languid pace, keeping his steps light against the wooden floorboards. 

Rationally, he knew what he was about to do (and currently doing, in a sense) was probably wrong. This was Fundy. His grandson. Wilbur's son – this was somebody he should be helping learn how to fish and tinker with different gadgets, not somebody that Phil wanted to fuck until he was a drooling mess. 

He should stop. 

But he wouldn't. 

And here they were. 

"I think you're a little too loud-mouthed for your own good, Fundy." Phil sighed, letting his thumb brush over the hybrid's plump lips, "A little too snarky and rude. I think that you should shut up for a while." 

"Yeah?" 

Phil nodded, pushing his own boxers down to let free an already half-hard, dripping length. "You're going to blow me with all that you have, and then maybe I'll think about touching you back." 

Intimacy was a huge thing for hybrids - it was something they needed, relied on, _craved_ , be it romantic or otherwise. They thrived on touches and rubbing against one another, and Phil knew precisely that, especially since he was a hybrid himself. Using it against Fundy wasn't something he'd expected himself to do, but he wasn't going to take back the words either. 

Fundy, unsurprisingly, couldn't miss the opportunity to have his grandpa's hands finally along his scalding body, and he leaned forwards. 

A hot, pink tongue darted out to press into a weeping head, eagerly licking up bubbling beads of precum and slicking down a warm length. 

Fundy was eager, eager to please, eager to make his grandpa spill deep into his waiting moth. 

But Fundy also wasn't exactly the epitome of patience, either, and it wasn't long before he was downright sucking on the mushroom top of Phil's cock instead of just teasing, hollowing his cheeks, and taking whatever milky fluid he could pull free beforehand. 

"You're such a whore, Fundy." Phil groaned, "Such a desperate little whore, sucking my dick like that." 

The hybrid let out a desperate whine, eyes drooping and head dropping further down the length as he began to bob up and down. Phil's hand was planted against his soft hair, curling his fingers around ginger strands and rubbing at the bases of his sensitive, twitching ears. 

"Phil," He gasped as he pulled back for air, drool and spit smeared over his red, bruising lips. Phil thought that he looked downright irresistible. "Phil-" 

The blonde was unable to stop himself as he pulled Fundy's mouth back over his cock, spearing the younger man and letting the head of his length press deep into the hybrid's neck. 

He was rocking his hips back and forth, even as Fundy's throat was spasming around his grandpa's length, and an onslaught of tears began to bubble in the corner of the hybrid's eyes. Fundy was choking and gagging, _almost_ desperate for air as Phil fucked into his mouth. 

It felt all too good, as Fundy's lips stretched widely around a girthy length, tongue lapping at what he could, and his fingers were scrambling for purchase on Phil's bare thighs. 

"You were practically made to suck dick, Fundy. Made to take my cock like this with your filthy mouth." 

Phil pulled out after a few more seconds, a slight smirk playing at his lips as he let the tip of his cock smack against the ginger's cheek, smearing a good few droplets of spit and precum over the flushed skin. 

"Back on the bed now, whore," He urged, giving the gasping fox a nudge that made him scramble. "Ass up for me." 

Fundy could deny – he could act out and kick his legs, pull a pout, and refuse. He could behave like the brat that he was born and raised to be, but then again... the idea of submitting, baring his neck, and letting Phil do as he pleased to his body was all the more tempting. 

"Grandpa," The hybrid whined, crawling onto the bed and settling down on his front, ass up and hard nipples pressing against cool silk covers. "Grandpa-" 

"Hm?" 

Phil's fingers were dancing over the fleshy skin of Fundy's ass, gliding over freckles and soft hairs, before dipping dangerously close against his waiting hole. The hybrid jerked back, hissing and shifting as if he was trying to urge the blonde man to press his fingers down. 

“Please, please, please, Phil, _please_.” 

"Please what?" 

Fundy almost growled, frustration growing, and his little cock leaked more and more with each second that passed. " _Please fuck me_." 

Phil had his permission, and that was practically all he needed. 

The older man made quick work of opening up his grandson, lathering his fingers in oils he typically kept for sore muscles or the tingling bases of his wings. Fingers pressed deep, first one, just to explore the spongy, opening insides of Fundy's furled whole, before one became two, and then two became an almost overwhelming three. 

"Look at you, Fundy. Such a dirty little slut taking my fingers, you're practically sucking them in," He growled, wet and dirty squelching accompanying Phil's movements and words as he finger-fucked his grandson. "My greedy little whore, aren't you?" 

Fundy nodded desperately, gasping and drooling as his sweet spot was practically annihilated. "Yes! Yes, Phil, Phil, grandpa, please! More, more!" 

The hybrid didn't think he'd ever felt more pleasured than at that point, coils of tight heat rumbling in the base of his abdomen, his balls tightening, and the weeping tip of his cock practically ready to burst. Ready to burst, right until Phil pulled his fingers back and out completely. 

"Phil!" 

"Shh, shh. I've got you." 

There was a thin tendril of care and tenderness as Phil caressed at Fundy's quivering thighs, gently rolling the hybrid over onto his back, so they finally had a clear view of each other. 

Fundy was sure that he looked like a mess – red-cheeked with messy hair, spit-slick lips, and eyes filled to the brim with uncontrollable lust. His chest was heaving, nipples turned to pebbles against flushed skin, and his usually retracted claws had caused slight rips in the sheets. 

Phil clearly saw otherwise. 

"You know, for such a nasty little thing, you sure are delectable." 

Fundy's cheeks turned a deeper red, and the hybrid found himself arching up somewhat, legs spreading wider to make room for Phil's toned form. 

"A delectable little thing that I just want to destroy." 

The ginger let his arms link around his grandpa's neck, legs moving similarly around the older man's waist as Phil got into position. A hard tip was brushing against a clenching, pink hole, dipping slightly in and against it but never pushing through fully. Fundy was desperate. 

"Grandpa," He finally spoke up, words laced with unadulterated desire, "Please?" 

Phil didn't need another softly spoken plea from his grandson, far too sated with the first as he finally began to push his pulsating length into a moaning hybrid.

Fundy's hole was practically sucking him in, clenching and unclenching desperately around Phil's cock as he pressed onwards – it was almost as if the ginger's body knew exactly what it wanted. What it needed. What it craved. 

"Phil!" Fundy whined, all high-pitched and needy, a far more different change from his usual, put-on cockiness. 

Phil's hips moved forwards and backwards, thrusting shallowly into a welcoming, tight heat as to make room for the large cock before he started a more brutal pace. 

A gasp. Fundy's fingers quivered as they began to wrap around dangling strands of blonde hair, twisting the locks amongst his claws, and his face and neck were flushing dark red. He gave a desperate tug as Phil started to speed up, spurred on by his grandson's unintentional fiddling. 

It wasn't too long before the room was filled to the brim with moaning, grunting, and the normally unfamiliar smack of hips hitting against a fleshy ass. 

"Grandpa! Grandpa!" Fundy cried, his voice hoarse and his body considerably shakier as he rocked back to match against Phil's crueler pacing. 

The older man wasn't holding back in the slightest, moaning and hissing into the fleshy expanse of Fundy's bared neck, biting bruising hickeys and even darker claiming marks into the skin. He wanted to destroy his grandson, have the man drooling and begging, remembering only the way that Phil's cock had filled him so well. 

Fundy, on the other hand, felt as if he was being split into two, his hidden bundle of nerves having been opened up and practically destroyed each time the blunt head of his grandfather's cock would thrust into it with almost dizzying motions. 

Wave after wave of pleasure was running through the sobbing hybrid, his chest arched up, and his cock was shaded in varying degrees of purple and red – a more than clear indication that he was about to burst. 

"Close, close, I'm so close!" 

Phil smirked, calloused hand wrapping around his grandson's length and squeezing tight at the base. "Beg me, and I'll let you come." 

Fundy was downright screaming at that point, thrashing underneath Phil and tugging desperately at the man's hair. He was a pleasured shell of his former, daring self – reduced to a pleading, squealing fox desperate for any sort of touch. 

"Please!" He cried out, head whipping from side to side, "Please, Phil! Please let me come; I've been so good, so good, so-" 

"Go on, whore." 

The moment that Phil let his restrictive, squeezing grip go, Fundy was spilling all over himself in lasting waves, a copious amount of milky cum squirting high over his stomach and chest. He was shuddering from pleasure, gasping and wriggling in every each way. 

Overstimulation waged against the towering tsunamis of pleasure that had begun to wrack the hybrid's sweaty body, Phil's heavy, chasing thrusts keeping him awake but slowly tipping him towards the edge of insanity. 

Luckily for Fundy, though, it wasn't too long before Phil was finding his own release, too, moaning against Fundy's neck as he filled his quivering grandson to the brim with his scorching seed. They stayed like that for a few moments, panting together and letting themselves catch a breath of cool air as the heat of the moment died down. 

Though, there was still a sense of satisfaction that washed over Phil as he gradually (and reluctantly) began to pull out, soft cock edging away from clenching, desperate walls of heat – a trail of leaking cum following after it. 

Fundy blinked a little, all bleary-eyed and grinning in self-triumph as he wriggled on the bed. He swallowed.

"That was good, wasn't it, grandpa-" 

"No. That wasn't good, actually. That was horrifying. And traumatizing. And – every other horrible word that is in the dictionary to describe what I just saw." 

Technoblade's monotone drawl was filled with slight panic and disgust, his gaze frantic as he backed away through the door – the very door that both Phil and Fundy had forgotten about, even with the cool gust drafting through it. 

"Never leave your door open again, Phil, or we are going to have to have serious, serious problems." 

Phil blanched for a moment, watching as a thick, red cape disappeared from view and the spruce door slammed shut behind its trail with a resonating bang. Disbelieving laughter bubbled in the back of Phil's throat, and he was utterly unable to hold it back. 

It wasn't long before Fundy joined in, too, the pair full of surprise and amusement. 

Sure, they'd probably need to talk about what had just happened and the implications, but for now, they could laugh together. 

(And maybe go for a round two.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requests: Open


	4. Techno x Fundy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So the plot could be when Fundy goes down and finds the hound army under L’manburg accidentally , Technoblade decides to fuck Fundy instead of killing him to keep Fundy quiet about the whole operation and stuff.
> 
> Degradation, Belly bulge, sadistic techno (is that even a kink??) paired with masochistic Fundy." @Duck Duck

Fundy's steps were light and careful as he padded through the gloomy tunnels of the forgotten sewer, tail twitching and ears perked upwards to listen out for any sort of noise that might appear. 

He wasn't one to come so far down below L'Manburg too often, but for nights upon sleepless nights, he was absolutely sure that he'd been hearing faint barking coming from deep below the earthy layers. 

As he walked over the prime path, as he tip-toed through the community center, as he lay back in bed each evening – there it was, a consistent, looping choir of soft barks and low whines. It was repetitive and consuming, bunching up around Fundy's mind as he desperately tried to block it out with everything that he had. 

Unfortunately for him, however, he could only manage a few hushed minutes of silence before his fox-traits and mannerisms retook charge, and all of his senses practically doubled – heightened to an _almost_ uncontrollable level. 

" _Hyperesthesia_ ," His father had told him once, gently running calloused fingers through Fundy's ginger locks. " _It'll get better soon, as you grow up, I promise_." What a promise that had been, as it certainly hadn't worked out. 

Fundy shook his head a little as if to dispel his wandering thoughts (mainly the ones about his late father), instead focusing on figuring out just where precisely those dogs might be located, if they were even real at all. 

The idea of them being fake, just ghosts whispering faint mysteries into Fundy's already crumbling mind, had bloomed within his head more than once – sourly reminding him of wars he'd already been forced through, reminding him of the times he'd watched his own pets being slaughtered without mercy. 

But surely not. 

Fundy wasn't crazy; he hadn't completely lost the plot just yet, no matter how much Tommy had liked to convince him that he had. 

The dogs were real, their harrowing howls and their biting barks were real, and Fundy was going to find them, no matter how much time it took. No matter how many more hours he had to stay awake, blinking away sleep and forcing himself through the abandoned tunnels of a dug-out sewer. He'd-

A bark, louder this time and coming straight from his right. 

Fundy whipped to the side; dark eyes narrowed into plotting slits. The familiar, taunting noises appeared to be echoing from somewhere behind the wall, from beneath the made-up cobble pressed together in neat, tight rows. His lips were downturned somewhat. 

There was definitely something there, there was definitely something behind those blocks, and Fundy was more than determined to find out just _what_ exactly. 

His hand lifted up, gentle fingers tracing lightly over the slight cracks in the wall. It appeared natural, something that had developed over hundreds of years and had only been somewhat smoothed out as the tunnels had been meticulously dug underneath L'Manburg for purposes, some unknown. 

But then again... 

A slight shift in the cobble, a slight split where two ends didn't exactly meet up in their usual binding. A wind grin split across Fundy's lips. Jackpot. 

The hybrid's free hand moved to grip onto the shimmering netherite pickaxe, the one his father had passed down to him not long ago, as it swung from the band around his waist. His fingers clasped around the handle, and he held it up in the air. 

Surely, just one, single sturdy hit and whatever was behind the blocks would finally be revealed- 

"What do you think you're doing?" 

Hairs raised, eyes widened, heart stopped. 

Fundy swallowed, mouth suddenly feeling miles too dry, and his stomach was churning uncomfortably within his lithe body. His tail gave a slight twitch, as if it too was in fear of the monster behind them, before curling around Fundy's quivering thigh. 

He let out a breath. 

"I-" 

"I don't recall telling anyone about this place, nor do I recall wanting anyone to find it." 

Fundy couldn't move; he was as still as a damn statue, feet firmly rooted to his original spot no matter how much he wanted to start sprinting away. He wanted to run; he wanted to scream and sob and plead for his life already, but his lips weren't moving, and his legs were like jelly. 

"Actually, if my memory is serving me correctly – and it usually is - I distinctly remember telling myself, 'Nobody can find the wolves, not under any circumstances. Anyone who does is... hm, a dead man.'" 

Oh god. Fundy didn't want to die. He _really_ didn't want to die. Not again – not another canon life lost to somebody so horrible, so monstrous, somebody who would most likely laugh as Fundy writhed and choked on his own, bubbling blood. Somebody who- 

He couldn't do it. 

"Please don't kill me!-" 

Fundy tried to whip around, he tried to turn to face the piglin hybrid head-on instead of simply cowering down, but Technoblade was far, far quicker than him, even with the elite fox-genes running through Fundy's pumping blood. 

The pink-haired man pushed the fox up against the cobble, heavy body leaning down against him to keep the squirming ginger in place. There was a slight pause of air between the two, mainly filled with Fundy's mindless, desperate babbling and Technoblade's quiet huffing. 

The older sighed. 

"Relax," He murmured, hot breath fanning across the back expanse of Fundy's exposed neck, "You're going to faint if you continue like this." 

Technoblade's hands, as calloused and as cold as they were, seemed to offer some sort of reassuring comfort as they pressed against Fundy's heaving sides – a steady hold that kept the blubbering fox grounded and conscious. 

Fundy let out a sharp breath, tongue licking out to wet at dry lips before he spoke. 

"Please don't kill me." 

Technoblade chuckled, the sound far too close to Fundy's ear for comfort – he could practically feel as the piglin's chest rumbled with his baritone-like timbre noises. 

"Why shouldn't I? You've found my secret, after all, found what I've been hiding for months now. Why shouldn't I kill you? I could easily give you enough brain damage so that you don't remember _a single thing_ about this." 

There wasn't even a hint of a lie in Technoblade's monotone drawl, and that was what scared Fundy the most. 

"Because- because.." 

What could Fundy possibly offer to make the hybrid forget this? What could he offer to make the hybrid let him go with his second canon life still strapped securely to his chest? What... 

"I'll do anything!" 

Pink brows raised. "Anything?" 

Fundy nodded, secure and final in his decision even as doubt ran rampage through his beating heart, the careful emotion licking at each inner corner of his shaped body and leaving trails of uncertainty and regret. He knew he didn't have much to offer to somebody who already had everything, but maybe, just maybe, Technoblade would have an idea. 

"Anything at all. I'll do anything – give you anything," Fundy repeated.

Techno hummed, curious and lilted as his hands ran smoothly over the hybrid's quivering body, brushing under a dark jacket and carefully flicking at the base of a sensitive, twitching tail. The resulting whimper that Fundy let out was more than just a little mortifying. 

"Techno-" 

"Shh," The pigling murmured, lips tracing wet and gentle marks over the back of Fundy's neck, "You'll let me do this, won't you?" 

It was wrong; it was immoral, it was something that Fundy shouldn't do – something that he should have started screaming and shrieking about as soon as he understood the meaning behind Technoblade's words. But god, did it sound appealing. 

"Yes." He paused. "Please." - An added afterthought. 

Technoblade didn't need a second confirmation as he began to tug down at Fundy's tight pants, pulling the dark material underneath the swell of a plump ass just enough to expose what was needed and wanted. 

The fox-hybrid's swelling cock was still trapped amongst the confines of his jeans, leaking and twitching each time that Techno jostled him. The friction was both delicious and infuriating all at once and had Fundy whining out. 

"Techno-" 

"Did I give you permission to speak, slut?" 

It was like whiplash, the sudden change from a reassuring gentleness to the stone-cold whispering of a brutal butcherer. Technoblade's words pierced right into Fundy's sensitive heart and yet somehow still had some small, hidden part of him stirring with _want_ and _need_. 

He shook his head. 

"Good boy," Techno grumbled, letting his fingers dance over Fundy's fleshy behind before landing a sharp, calculated hit, just to watch the hybrid squirm, and squirm Fundy did. 

"Nn! Fuck-" 

"What did I say about speaking? Hm?" 

A heavy sigh rumbled from Technoblade's lips, disappointment clear and stark in his tone. "I thought you knew better than that, Fundy. Thought a whore like you would know how to follow the rules." 

The hybrid swallowed. "I'm... I'm not a whore-" 

"Oh really? You're not?" There was a mocking, harsh tone to Techno's voice. "I could have sworn that you've been on your knees for more than half of the server already, _sweetheart_. Practically begging for a shred of attention, aren't you? I bet that you'll bend over for anyone who even looks at you nicely." 

It wasn't true, not in the slightest, but God, a part of Fundy, wishes it was. What he'd give to be filled up so completely all of the time, plugged and full of cum from many of his dashing friends- 

"Please," He whined, the noise settling high in his throat as he tried to buck back against Techno's wandering, probing fingers at his sensitive hole. 

"So tight down here, I'm surprised." The piglin noted, "I imagined that you'd be loose and sloppy, probably still leaking cum from the different rounds you've been through just this evening." 

A large, dry finger breached the tight furl of the ginger's clenching hole, pushing deep despite the tight dryness. Fundy relished in the slight burn, a pleasured feeling running rampant through his quivering body. He knew immediately that he wanted more – more of that scorching, delicious roughness. 

It seemed as if Technoblade knew that Fundy wanted it too, as he was soon continuing with his movements – punishing thrusts of his finger deep into the hybrid, pressing into spongy walls and brushing against fiery nerve endings. 

A continuous, pumping rhythm that was pleasurable for both men - from Techno, a watching point of view, and Fundy a receiving.

Technoblade was soon adding another, and then another – three, thick and calloused fingers pumping in and out, in and out, hitting deep, deeper than Fundy had ever managed purely by himself and sending the hybrid into blissful, melting waves. 

Fundy was gasping and moaning, his sinful noises accompanying the growled words of the piglin.

" _Whore._ " 

" _Look at how you're taking me, greedy little slut_." 

" _So desperate, even for just my fingers_." 

" _You really are just a mindless, cock-thirsty whore, aren't you_?" 

“ _Dirty little fox_.” 

A tightening, coiling heat was settling deep within Fundy's lower regions, wriggling around his crotch and wrapping tight around his leaking cock. He was close, impossibly so, just from a few fingers and harsh words – Gods, maybe he really was a slut, maybe this was all he was made for, maybe- 

Technoblade's fingers receded before another, fleeting moment could pass, sharp nails catching on a loosened rim and leaving flushed, crimson marks that had the ginger yelping from both the pleasure and the tingle of pain. 

"Needy bitch," The older spat, right hand clutching around Fundy's throat as he used his left to undo his belt, pushing his chained pants down enough to reveal an aching, glistening cock. 

Precum leaked from the mushroom tip, smeared across a thick length, and large balls were nestled at the base. Coils of pink pubic hair made up a blossoming field around Techno's crotch – and even from the tiny, side view that Fundy could just about glance at, he knew immediately he'd one day want his nose nestled right within them as he choked on the piglin's swelling dick. 

Perhaps not today, but soon. (Preferably.) 

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard, Fundy darling, fuck you silly – fuck you till you're wailing and sobbing, and you can't even remember your own name." 

Techno let free of Fundy's gasping throat as he spoke, using his hand instead to steady the base of his considerably large cock. 

His fiery piglin genes were a blessing in disguise – something that he hadn't ever expected to be so thankful for. Of course, there were downsides to the other half of Techno, ugly drawbacks and disappointments, but his sizeable length was nothing to be ashamed of. 

Twelve inches of leaking, hardened flesh ready to split the fox-hybrid in half. 

"Techno, Techno, please- please-!" 

A loud, sounding cry echoed throughout the typically quiet tunnels, Fundy's shaking, curved body arching upwards and quivering even more as Technoblade thrust into him. There was no time for a reprieve, no time to get used to the spearing, massive length as the piglin began to set up a brutal pace. 

Hips slammed against a fleshy ass, balls hitting into the curve of Fundy's behind and sending visible shockwaves of pleasure through the moaning, gasping fox. 

Fundy was in pure bliss, the pleasure easily outweighing the screaming, scorching pain that had earlier accompanied the sudden entrance into his unready body. Perhaps Techno had entered a little soon, perhaps he should have eased into the clenching passage beforehand, but Fundy didn't want to think about the 'what if's.' 

He was more than happy to be Technoblade's little cock sleeve, to be his little sex doll – something that the piglin could use and abuse, in a sense. 

Fundy would take anything that the soldier would give him; he'd bend over at any point, spread his legs no matter where or who might see him, because the feelings that he was currently going through were absolute, shining euphoria. 

Sure, it also felt as if he was being split apart - as if his whole body had been shredded from the inside out, but then again... each time that a heavy, dripping tip pressed deep into the sensitive bundle of nerves within Fundy's hole, the fox found himself screaming for more. 

"Please, please, please!" He cried, desperate and needy, as he bucked back into Technoblade's thrusts. 

The older man was unrelenting, already having a tight, bruising grip on Fundy's jutted hips as he fucked into the ginger's sloppy hole, cock practically being held in with each shuddering movement. 

"Dirty whore," Techno gasped out, for once in his life more than just a tiny bit disheveled, "Sucking my cock in – desperate little greedy thing." 

He was pounding against Fundy's prostate, his left hand wrapped around the younger hybrid's weeping cock as he pressed into him with an unyielding pace. There was no stopping the piglin now that he'd started, hips flexing, and he was spewing insults after demeaning insults – but ones that Fundy easily ate up. 

"You thrive on this, don't you?" Techno breathed, biting down onto Fundy's neck through sharp teeth and words. "Thrive on being filled up and claimed." 

Fundy nodded rapidly, desperate to agree. 

"Yes, yes, yes! Please, Gods, Techno- please, please, I need-" 

His hands were scrambling for purchase on the cobble wall as he was pressed up against it, cheek smushed into the stone and inevitably leaving slight grazes, but ones that only ached with a delicious sort of pain. 

Fundy felt as if he'd been speared in half by the older man's brutally sized cock, the blunt head pressing up, up, up through his body and pushing out into the sensitive walls of his stomach – a distention easily noticeable each time that Technoblade edged deep. 

The hybrid's hand landed down onto his lower tummy, just to feel each time he was stretched right to his screeching limits. 

"Please," He sobbed, needy tears welling in his eyes, "Please, I need to come, I need to, please-" 

Technoblade's lips stretched into a slight smile against the hybrid's neck, a pitied coo leaving him as he shifted down to wrap a loose fist around Fundy's twitching, purpled cock. He was careful with his touches, a sharp claw gently gliding over a sensitive, weeping slit. 

"I've got you, whore. You can come now. You can come." 

The piglin's thrusts didn't relent even as Fundy came with a screaming cry, still going strong and steady as Fundy spilled all over Techno's hand, his own tummy and then simultaneously turned into a boneless, weeping mess. 

Fundy was pliant and whining, allowing Techno to manhandle him in each way he needed and craved. 

The older pounded hard and deep, gasping through heaving breaths and past sharp tusks as he worked himself to completion. His thick head was grazing into a bundle of nerves, just enough times to send the fox spiraling towards overstimulation and desperate pleading. Technoblade finally cumming was Fundy's saving grace, however.

Fundy felt absolutely filled to the brim, hips working backwards and hole clenching desperately as if to milk the warrior's spilling, heated cum. He was whimpering and sweaty, strands of ginger locks stuck to his forehead, and his pants were sticky enough for it to be uncomfortable. His stomach felt heavy and his thighs were quivering and wet.

He took a breath. 

"I-" 

"You won't be telling anyone about this, now, will you?" 

Oh. 

There was that monotone drawl, a familiar roughness to Technoblade's dry tone as he pulled out of the hybrid without another care. (Though, even as if it seemed he'd shrouded entirely back into his reserved, colder state, he still had the slight care to lower Fundy to the floor of the sewer when his legs gave in.) 

Fundy shook his head from side to side, still a little dazed and fucked out as he peered upwards. "N-no. No. I won't, I won't, I swear-" 

"Good." 

Technoblade peered over Fundy's shaking form as he did up his pants once more, wet and long length having softened and easily tucked back inwards. Despite the calm image that Techno was giving off, he was more than sated – a little blissful, even. 

"Stay away from the sewers, Fundy." He noted as he took a step back, eyes glinting. "I might not be so gracious next time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scuffed ending oops 
> 
> Requests: Open


	5. Eret x Fundy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fundy on some kind of makeshift redstone fucking machine. Ngl, I think it'd be cool if he made something like that by himself using his redstone knowledge as a way to experiment and try and "fill the void" that is his desire to be loved both sexually and romantically. Someone (preferably either Schlatt, Sam, Wilbur (incestually), Hbomb, Eret, or even Dream) finds him while hes using it and either a) overwhelms him with sweet praise and confession of their attraction to him while they jerk him off and tease him for doing something so lewd or b) cruelly humiliate and degrade him while touching him and taunting him for being so lonely, slutty, and vulnerable." - @That One Coward

_"Here you go, Fundy! Got these for you, just as you requested."_

_Eret had a bright, shining smile on his pale face as he held out the Redstone blocks towards his hybrid friend - ever giving even despite the somewhat bad blood that had used to bloom between himself and Fundy._

_The fox accepted it with readily open palms, a small smile being offered up towards Eret's similar one (though the elders was perhaps a little wider.)_

_"Thanks again, Eret. Knew that I could count on you for this!"_

_The Ruler nodded, stepping back once Fundy had the blocks safely distributed within his inventory. "No problem. Anything to help a friend, of course – though I must ask, and mind my curiosity, but why do you need so much Redstone and so suddenly?"_

_Ah._

_Fundy had been ready to spin around, ready to rush away back to the dark cover of his home and tuck up close with his new blocks and craftily made devices, but Eret just had to ask – they couldn't keep their interest in check, clearly._

_(Though a part of Fundy didn't really blame him.)_

_"Well..."_

_A hand gently rubbed at the back of his neck, Fundy's sharp canines dripping into his lower lip, and he shifted on his feet. "I just have..."_

_Fundy was meant to be part fox – he was meant to be crafty and sly, tricky and cunning, not stuttering on his words and practically shrinking underneath the Monarch's patient gaze. Sure, Eret might _look_ calm and collected, but who knows how she would react if Fundy were to reveal his hidden plans. _

_"I have a new mob farm I want to try out!"_

_That was a pretty plausible lie, right? Fundy didn't look too suspicious, _right_? _

_Eret just nodded, a doubtful expression flashing across his face for a minute second before it mellowed out into neutral coolness._

_"Alright, Fundy," He smiled, reaching to gently ruffle the ginger's curling locks. "Have fun with whatever you're doing. If you need any help, my communicator is always on hand."_

_The hybrid nodded, beaming bright, and his tail was wagging almost violently behind him. He was more than pleased that his tumbling lies had been accepted without any more questioning, poking, or prodding and that he wouldn't need to explain anything else._

_"Yep! Thank you again, Eret! Bye now!"_

__

That conversation had been hours ago – a far-gone memory that Fundy had easily pushed aside the moment he'd returned to his underground base. The lulling smell of fresh earth and the reassuring scent of iron mechanics were enough to have him distracted, unsurprisingly. 

Plus, Fundy didn't really have the time to think about whether or not Eret was suspicious of him anyway – not as the hybrid was bent over, legs spread, and heaving chest pushed against the ground as he panted and moaned. 

Unlike what he'd told Eret, Fundy hadn't wanted to make another mob farm whatsoever. He had more than enough of them already, and he barely even used them as it was, so what was the point of another? 

No, see, Fundy hadn't wanted that at all. He'd wanted something different, something that would bring far more... _pleasure_ and _enjoyment_ than a simple farming station. Something to help fill the void of echoing loneliness and stinging rejection that had somehow made a deep home in Fundy's aching, bleeding heart. 

Though... 

An automated fucking machine certainly hadn't originally been on his list of 'things to do,' or 'things that he should definitely, probably, maybe invest in creating at some point in the future or possibly immediately,' but he was certainly very grateful for it either way. 

The pure, never-ending fulfilment that this thing could bring... 

Sure, it'd been a little finicky to make, tricky and confusing, and at some points, Fundy had wanted to rip out his own bristling fur, but it was bound to be worth it. (No matter how much Redstone he'd had to layer deep within iron layers or between shifting cogs.) 

It _had_ to be worth it, actually, because if it weren't, then Fundy would have ultimately wasted a good hour or so working himself open with oily, slender fingers until he was left hard, groaning, and his gripping hole was practically _dripping_. 

Fundy was exposed, in more ways than just one, as he practically presented himself up for the jolting machine. His face was flushed a pretty red, ears twitching madly, and his tail was wagging from the built-up anticipation and coiling pleasure. He was desperate and needy, only just about managing to resist from leaking a high whine from his trembling lips. 

The fox shifted on padded blankets as he mumbled, careful and cautious as he wriggled in the messy nest that he'd recently managed to put together underneath him. 

(Truth be told, Fundy hadn't really had the patience to clean up or make a good comfort area before he started out on his new experiment.) 

Flecks of Redstone dust was still smeared along his stained cheeks; clothes were wildly strewn across a cold, cobble ground; tools left lying about – his base was completely cluttered, in a more roundabout sense, with only his small, warmer zone not having some sort of cog or bolt left clumsily tossed. 

It made him a little uncertain, but not enough so that he was going to turn away from what he'd put his mind to earlier. 

Fundy chanced a glance back to the machine with that last, humming thought, his face going a deeper crimson as a cold, rounded tip bumped against his upper thigh. 

The machine was set at a slow pace at that point, turned on only to make sure that it would work properly without immediately breaking. And now that Fundy knew that it was fine? God, he didn't have the patience to test out and check on the faster speeds. He needed something inside of him, and _now_. 

A trembling foot kicked against the lever, pausing it down to a halt as Fundy began to line himself up – a cool mushroom head rubbing against a furled, wet entrance, legs quivering, chest pressing up and down in rapid motions. 

Fundy let out a breath. 

He sunk backwards, knees shuffling down until the sturdy silicone was filling him up, up, up. The machine wasn't even moving yet, but by God's did Fundy already feel more than pleasured – he felt incredible. 

It was like Fundy was being filled up right to the brim, his insides being stretched impossibly wide, and his toes curled at the feeling. There was a slight burn, a slight itch of pain that didn't feel as if it was going to disappear – but then Fundy shifted again, and a cock brushed right into a vibrating bundle, right into a nest of electric eels. 

He shifted backwards once more, slowly beginning to use the toy as if it was only a stationary dildo that he'd settled down on and not attached to a machine that was waiting patiently to fuck his brains out. 

Fundy paused, took a breath, and then continued to work himself on the toy. 

A string of aching moans dribbled from the hybrid's lips as he wriggled, his body trembling and his foot scrambled against the stone lever once more, unintentionally (or perhaps somewhat intentionally) turning it up a few notches. 

What had previously been a learning stillness had quickly developed and changed into deep pounding – not exactly _fast_ but it wasn't particularly slow either; it was more of a sated pace that was pressing into a sloppy, leaking hole without any remorse. 

Fundy couldn't even begin to explain the copious amounts of lust and rapture that was rippling through him in waves. 

His hips were pressing back, taking in all that he could and as fast as he could. A mushroom-headed tip was catching on his rim each time the machine pulled out, gripping at sensitive, puffy edges before pushing forwards once more. 

It was a continuous, aching set of motions and movements that had the hybrid sobbing and crying against his padded, makeshift nest. 

Pounding, pounding, pounding. 

Thrusting, thrusting, thrusting. 

The mechanic whirring of strong metal mixing in against Fundy's sobbing, groaning noises. 

He'd never felt this good before, never felt so satisfied and full, especially as the machine cranked up a slight notch and the pounding only got faster and faster. It was like a massive cycle of pure and absolute bliss, one that he couldn't escape from – not that he really wanted to. 

Fundy could stay like that forever, spread out and exposed as a silicone length was forced in and out of his more petite body, stretching him gapingly wide and sending him drooling all over himself in a show of raw emotions. 

Never in his life had he imagined he would have made something so _wrong_ but so _good_ at the same time. A blessing in disguise, and one that Fundy knew he wouldn't be getting rid of any time soon, not if he had anything to say about it, at least. 

Just as long as nobody found out... 

"Fundy?" 

There's a light echoing of footsteps rolling through the underground base, the telling sounds bouncing from each far wall and echoing right into Fundy's twitching ears. He paused, heart-stopping and breath catching in his throat. 

It was as if time itself had come to a screeching stop, pleasure mixing in with oncoming tsunamis of dread and fear as the footsteps only seem to get louder and louder as the seconds passed. 

He'd know that voice anywhere - 

_Eret._

The hybrid scrambled to sit up, desperately trying to find some sort of purchase on the blanket-covered ground that he was leaking all over. His claws were catching on all kinds of softened materials, and his quivering, _trembling_ legs were hopelessly trying to find some lick of strength to push upwards. 

Fundy wanted to elevate himself so badly, to put a pause to the machine and make himself even somewhat presentable in front of the oncoming King – he wanted to look a lot less like the mess that he currently was, all flush-faced and panting, all scorching and moaning. 

But he couldn't bring his lithe body to move even an inch, not if he was attempting something that wasn't just rocking back into the pounding, relentless thrusts from the rapid machine. 

"Eret-" He tried, needy-toned and sobbing as he only lifted his ass higher, desperate to take in more of the lubricated cock. "Eret-" 

"Fundy?" There was a slight tinge of amused confusion (and humming concern) as Eret took the final few steps down into Fundy's abode, his clicking heels coming to a scathing halt against the cold ground as he surveyed the scene unfolding in front of him. 

A contemplative expression shrouded over the Monarch's typically stony face, the cogs eagerly turning within his brain, before it dissolved into a sort of sadistic awe that not even Eret himself would be able to put a finger on. 

"Oh, Fundy." They sighed lightly, excitement tinged against their words, and they were keeping their movements light and calculated as they pressed onwards. "Fundy, what are you doing?" 

Wasn't it more than obvious? 

Couldn't Eret already tell? 

Couldn't he see how much of a disgrace that Fundy currently was? 

Fundy wanted to _scream_. Embarrassment was already spreading over his heated skin, licking across sweaty patches and dancing over his shaking, meaty thighs. He was considerably more than mortified (and slightly aroused) at being seen in such a vulnerable position, and now Eret wanted him to explain himself? 

Seriously? 

“ _Eret_ -” 

"Look at you," The Ruler sighed lightly, crouching down beside Fundy, and her delicate fingertips ran over his clammy, burning sides, dipping over pointed ribs and rubbing carefully into considerably soft love handles.

She let out a breath, tone quiet and reserved as if letting go of a secret. "You're so beautiful, Fundy. So beautiful like this." 

What? 

Fundy blanched for a moment or two; the speed of the thick length being plunged deep inside of him was momentarily a second thought as he focused on what his – arguably - closest friend had just said. 

_What_? 

The fox had honestly expected some sort of belittlement, some kind of blackmail or horrendous punishment for how horrible, how disgusting he's been acting, and the things that he's been doing behind everyone's back - especially with making something as taboo as a _fucking machine_. 

But no. 

Instead, Eret was complimenting him, showering the whimpering fox hybrid with all sorts of praise and encouragement, mentioning just how gorgeous Fundy looked so spread out and how Eret just wanted to eat him right up. 

The fox wanted to sob. 

It was unnatural, something new and unknown, and Fundy didn't really know how to properly wrap his head around what Eret was telling him, but it felt so good, too. It felt like he was being draped in the softest, most comforting blankets and then swaddled and held until he was all fuzzy inside. 

He'd never felt so loved, so adored before as Eret ran his hands entirely over a thin, though surprisingly curvy, body, letting his digits dip wherever they so may please. 

Be it along Fundy's tight, hardening nipples, or across the hybrid's aching, begging length; it didn't matter, he would allow Eret to trace his fingers no matter what or where – hell, if the King really wanted to, he had Fundy's full permission to swap out with the machine and fuck the fox until completion. 

(Though both ideally knew, deep down, that it wasn't the time nor the place at that point.) 

"Why're you- Why're you- why..." 

Fundy was spluttering around copious amounts of spit and moans, his tongue clicking out over his sharp canines, and his words were considerably jumbled against one another. 

Truth be told, the hybrid didn't know whether he wanted to ask for answers or just continue moaning like some cheap whore. 

Perhaps both? 

Eret's fingers gently wrapped around a few of Fundy's ginger curls. "I was worried about you," they admitted with a slight shrug, pressing a kiss to a sweaty forehead as they did so. Affection was one of the things that came most easy to them. "You seemed oddly jumpy and cautious earlier, and I wanted to make sure that you were really okay." 

That made sense, Fundy couldn't and wouldn't deny it – and either way, he was too busy blushing and gasping underneath each and every touch that Eret would grant to him to question the Ruler's words too much. 

Anything that Eret would give him, anything at all... 

"And now I see that you very clearly are fine," They mused with a grin, their shielded gaze drifting over to the machine that was still pumping Fundy's ass full of an unyielding, wet silicone. Their eyes snapped to the lever. "I imagine this turns it up, no?" 

Fundy nodded, albeit weakly. 

Eret seemed to light up at that, already reaching over for it. She pulled without warning, perhaps uncaring or perhaps just wanting to see Fundy reach his end – or maybe even hit a roadblock that left him oversensitive and begging. 

The reaction was instantaneous and considerably more than just pleasing. 

Fundy arched with a scream, arms and legs turning to complete and utter jelly as he collapsed across his poorly put-together nest, body slumped, and his flushed ass pressed upwards in an almost presenting manner. He wasn't even rocking backwards at that point, too weak and drunk on lust to acknowledge that his body could move. 

The hybrid was intensely overloaded, his senses going haywire, and his tail was swinging back and forth in time with each rapid thrust from the machine. 

"Eret!" 

Broken, sobbing moans dribbled from Fundy's lips, accompanying rolling spit and dripping tears that had made their way down over his ruby-soaked face. 

"Eret, please, please-" He continued around overlapping whines and whimpers. 

The King let free a soft coo, white eyes softening behind darkened shades, and his own cock gave a twinge in the confines of his tight pants. "Darling," He whispered, more than happy to help with the fox's problem, "I'll do anything you need, anything for you." 

Fundy's cock only appeared to leak even more profusely at the words; precum smeared across his quivering, rolling stomach. 

"Touch me-" He hiccupped, "Touch me?" 

Eret's hand wrapped around the hybrid's weeping length, a closed fist forming in place as they began to pump up and down. It was a somewhat slow pace, not as quick as the machine but not entirely slow either. It was more so warm and firm. 

"Yes, yes, yes-" 

Hm. 

"You look so good like this, Fundy, so desperate and needy, so hopeless and pliant. I bet I could push you in whatever way I wanted, and you'd just accept it like the greedy little thing you are." 

Fundy sobbed. 

"You're craving a release, aren't you? Craving to finally cum all over yourself, paint your pretty pink flesh all in white while you scream and cry." 

The hybrid could feel his balls tightening uncomfortably against his crotch and base, cock tingling and hole clenching and unclenching around a pounding fake-length. He was a mess, that was more than obvious, but everything that Eret was saying was entirely accurate. 

"I bet you look so pretty when you cum," Eret traced her fingers over him, "I bet you pull the most adorable of little faces, and you moan so prettily. Moan so well." 

Fundy was being sent towards the edge, teetering over it without any second thoughts. 

"You already look so good just like this, wriggling and writhing, drooling all over and panting like a bitch in heat." 

He wanted to scream and shout; he wanted to cry to the high heavens that finally somebody had found him to look after and that he wasn't alone; he had Eret's steady presence by his side as he was fucked into the oblivion. He was open and sensitive, moaning like a desperate little slut, and Eret thought that he was _divine_. 

"Come for me, sweetheart," Eret shifted his hand somewhat, flicking his wrist and thumbing over Fundy's slicked-up slit, dipping a nail into the sensitive flesh, "You can do it now, angel. I've got you; you're doing so well." 

Fundy came with a shrieking yell, hips stuttering and hole clenching desperately around the pounding cock. 

Constant drips of cum exploded from his sensitive, bursting length, spilling all over the King's loose fist and splattering across the hybrid's tummy. His eyes were blown and wide from pure, never-ending lust, hips weakly lulling back and forth, and his limbs had an uncanny resemblance to wobbling jelly. 

"There you are, there's my pretty boy." 

Fundy's face flushed a bright crimson. 

He was pliant and loose, hole sloppy and leaking lube as Eret shifted to put a stop to the lever - the silicone length laying still for the first time in hours. There was a shimmering sheen of sweat over the fox's body, one that he'd need to wash away as soon as possible, and Fundy's cock couldn't stop twitching. 

Fundy felt sensitive and raw, all laid out and panting as Eret rubbed soothing circles around his puffy, flaming entrance. He wanted to protest, to shy up and hide his face, but the more logical side of his brain knew better. 

Eret wasn't there to belittle him or poke fun; no, they were there for much sweeter, kinder options, and ones that Fundy would revel in for years to come. 

But for now? He was more than happy to simply let Eret clean him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D i loved this idea so much i could get it out of my brain oops


End file.
